THE PASSING OF A GREAT GRANDPARENT

On Sunday evening my grandfather passed away.  He was 92 years old. He died from complications due to emphysema. He actually quit smoking, cold turkey, fifty years ago after reading a Reader's Digest letter from a little girl to her mother, begging her to stop smoking so that her mother would always be there for her.

My grandfather was a fighter and he left us on his own terms. He had been suffering for several months and finally decided it was time to let go. So on Sunday morning, with most of his children and grandchildren at his bedside, and the rest of us on the phone, they removed the tubes from his throat so he could say goodbye to everyone. Knowing that it would probably be his last day he asked for his last meal - a "Boston" hotdog and some Crown Royal to wash it down with. He held hands and kissed his wife of 69 years and said goodbye to everyone and then he put on the Red Sox and fell asleep and he was gone.

At the funeral yesterday my father called him "the hero of our family" and he really was. He taught us all how to be better people. How to be better parents. And that's why I'm using this forum to share with you my thoughts on my grandfather. The thoughts I shared at his funeral yesterday...

I can’t really recall the first time I met my grandfather, but I do recall him always being a presence in my life.  I remember visiting him at his plumbing shop. I remember his Crown Royals at Oakley Country Club and I remember going to Red Sox games with my father, my grandfather and my great grandfather. I remember taking a solo trip down to Florida when I was eight and going to Lion Country Safari and being terrified as we posed for a picture together with a real lion cub. I still have that picture. And it still makes me smile. I also remember stealing peeks at his Playboy collection and maybe stealing one or two of the actual magazines as well.  

It wasn’t until only a couple of years ago when I went down to Florida to see my grandparents that I really got to know him as a person. Even though I was probably 34 or 35 at the time he had always just been “my grandpa,” the great guy who you could do no wrong in his eyes and who would buy you dinner and laugh at your jokes and do whatever I wanted to do. But this time I was a father and we spoke about life. And not just mine. We also talked about his life. I learned things I never knew about him before. Things I never asked about, like his time on the U.S.S. Missouri. And because of my interest he gave me a U.S.S. Missouri hat as a gift this year that I will treasure forever.

My grandfather was from a generation where men were men and they didn’t show too much affection or emotion. And for a while I thought maybe this is where I got that trait from. People who know me know I’m not really a hugger. But about a half dozen years ago my mother pulled me aside and said my grandfather asked her why I never kissed or hugged him or never said, “I love you.” I didn’t have an answer. I just wasn’t the hugging and kissing type of guy. But the next time I saw him I gave him a kiss and a hug. And he didn’t let go right away. And it was then that I realized I was wrong. He was the affectionate and emotional type. It was also then that I realized how much this really meant to him. And every time I saw him after that I gave him a hug and a kiss and every time I spoke to him on the phone I made a point of saying, “I love you.”  And every time I did it, I understood exactly how much it meant to him. And this is probably why I’m proud to say I’m a hugger now, okay maybe a better hugger than I used to be. But I know this is why I always tell my kids how much they mean to me. And why I always insist on a hug and kiss before I walk out the door. And that’s a gift I got from my grandfather.

I don’t recall when I met my grandfather, but he’s always been a presence in my life. And he always will be.  

Pictured: Me, the girls, my father and my grandfather, last June.